Buzz
John sighed and jumped out of the shower, reaching to the toilet seat where his clothes rested. On top of the pile lay his phone, which alerted him of a new text. He had only just climbed into the shower and turned the water on. It wasn't even warm yet.
He slid the screen up to reveal the keyboard, ready to reply. Ready, until he read who it was from.
Hurry up. S
John chucked the phone back down.
"Sherlock, I'm only in the bathroom. You could have shouted. What is it?" He strained his ears in search of a reply but nothing was heard apart from running water. He shook his head, stepped with one foot back into the shower before he got his reply.
Buzz
He stepped back out and slid up the screen again.
I need you. S
"I'm trying to have a shower Sherlock. What do you want?" John waited for an answer, giving up after a few seconds. If it was that urgent, Sherlock would have shouted for him... surely. He climbed back in. He had managed a whole 1 minute before his phone vibrated again.
Buzz
Looking towards his phone through the water that was washing over his face, he decided not to answer it. 20 seconds later it vibrated again.
Buzz
Text alerts continually went off; John ignoring every one. He was just coming to the end of his shower when the texts began having 5 second intervals between each one. Irritated, John had finally had enough and leaned out of the shower to grab his phone, shampoo studs still coating his hair. Once his hand was grasped around it he stood back in the shower. Holding the phone just out of the spray of the water, he scrolled through the texts. All from Sherlock.
I need you John. It's urgent. S
Don't ignore me John. I said it was urgent. S
Urgent means now. Not after your shower. S
I could be dying here. S
Dead. I'd be dead now. Happy? S
Are you deaf as well as stupid? Have you not heard your phone? S
Right, I'm calling Lestrade so he'll come and kick open the door. S
Glaring down-wards at his phone, the water still washed over his head. Shampoo studs slid down his face slowly. John cursed suddenly, trying to wipe his eyes of the studs that created the unbearable stinging. Then without warning his phone vibrated once again, causing him to jump. The phone dropped from his hand and sunk in the water at the bottom of the shower.
"Damnit!" With his arm over his eyes to shield his eyes from more of the studs that threatened his eyes, he kneeled down. His hand searched the bottom of the shower until his fingers clasped around the rectangular metal. Once in possession of his phone he felt his way out of the shower and grabbed the nearest towel available. He wiped his eyes gingerly. When the pain had just about reached a level that he could cope with, he checked his phone. The screen was dark and unresponsive, no matter what buttons he pressed, in what order. Simply, it was broken.
Fuming, John wrapped the towel around his waist and stormed out of the bathroom to the living room where Sherlock was lounged on the sofa.
"Bloody Hell Sherlock! What do you want?"
"Did John. The correct grammar is did." Sherlock didn't bother looking across at his flatmate, but stared simply at the ceiling.
"What?" John cried angrily.
"No point being angry John. It lowers your IQ by at least half."
"Sherlock-" He growled through gritted teeth. Sherlock interrupted him.
"First: you should have asked what did I want. I needed your phone John. To send a text. But now I have no need of it, since you carelessly dropped it in the shower, and it's now water clogged. You can continue your shower now."
"Sherlock..." John repeated, but paused. "Sherlock, why on earth did you need my phone to send a text, when you have a perfectly adequate one to text with yourself? As you proved to me when I was in the shower."
"Sarcasm is worse John. I knew it would take 9 texts before you would finally answer me, and I only had 9 left. So now I have no texts, and your phone is useless. You're less helpful than the skull sometimes."
John glanced back at the skull which was in its place on the mantelpiece. Glared at it for a bit, until he realised.
"Wait... you only had 9 texts?"
"Well done John. Very clever deduction." John ignored Sherlock's last comment which dripped with obvious sarcasm.
"So who sent the last text?" Sherlock finally looked across at him. Rolled his eyes and then sat up.
"That'll have been Lestrade. He must have been worried about why I called instead of texted. Never mind. He'll be here in precisely a minute and a half. You can explain it to him then."
I hope you enjoyed it, please take the time to review, I'd really appreciate it, especially if you favourite my story. :)